CHAPTER 1
RYKER
We won! The crowd is going wild. The security and half the police force is here tonight because they knew this was going to be a good game, and we didn’t disappoint. For the first time in twenty years, the Lonestar Thunder baseball team has won the big game.
I’m all smiles as my teammates celebrate, smacking each other on the back, pumping their fists in the air. The family members of the team are making their way out onto the field. I find my dad in the crowd and jog over to greet him, picking him up in a big hug. He says loudly, “I’m proud of you, son.”
I smile ear to ear. “Thanks, Dad.”
He pulls back and holds his hand out, ticking off my stats on his fingers. “You had five at bats, four hits, two home runs, one triple, one double, and six RBIs. You had a hell of a game, son.”
I hug him again, and I can’t help but think about my mom. She would have loved to have been here. Hell, if it wasn’t for her and my dad, I would never have made it to the big leagues, let alone kept my head on right. Since she passed away five years ago, it’sjust me and him. “Thanks, Dad. And I mean it. You’ve always been here for me. I love you.”
He wipes the wetness from his eyes. “I love you too, son.”
My teammates come up, and we’re a bunch of grown men sobbing with happiness and celebrating. We stay on the field for a while. I have a friend from security take my dad to his car, and later as I’m walking through the now empty tunnel toward the locker rooms, I pull my phone out of my bag. I tell myself not to do it, but it’s like I can’t stop punishing myself. It’s been twenty years since the love of my life said she wanted to end things. We were just kids, and I should have gotten over it by now, but in times like today, when emotions are welling up inside me, she’s the first person I think of.
I go to the social app, the book of faces, and search her name. Isabel Curtis. I’m smiling as I look at her picture. She’s still as beautiful as I remember. She’s grown up—hell, she’s married and has a kid, but I still think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I scroll down and stop in my tracks. I bring the phone up and read her status again. Am I seeing what I’m seeing?
Twenty-four hours ago, Isabel changed her status from married to single.
She’s single. The love of my life, my Izzy, is no longer married.
I scroll her feed, as if it’s going to give me the answers I’m looking for. What happened? Is she okay?
Nothing. There’s nothing else. She made that post and nothing else. I open the comments on her status change, looking for clues, and there are numerous comments from her friends pumping her up and telling her she’s going to be okay.
Hell, yeah, she’s going to be okay. I’m going to make sure of it.
I walk into the locker room, and some of the team is already in here. I look around for the general manager, and as soon as I find him, I walk up to him. “Can we talk?”
He must see the look on my face, and he nods his head. “Sure. Is this a locker room talk or a private office talk?”
I take my hat off, rub the sweat off my forehead, and put it back on. “Private.”
His eyebrows lift. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I follow him to his office. He holds the door open and closes it behind me. “Have a seat.”
I take a seat, and he sits behind his desk. “You had a great game tonight. I’m sure you’re going to be on a few highlights, and I’m already getting calls of people wanting you to do some interviews. You going to be in town the rest of the week?”
I think about everything I need to do before I go to Whiskey Run. I’ve been on this team for ten years and with Greg, the GM, for five of those. I owe him not to just bolt.
“I’ll be in town for two weeks.”
I mentally go through the list of things I need to do. Pack up and sell my house, buy a house in Whiskey Run, and the list goes on and on. But while I’m doing those things, I can do a few interviews.
I don’t know how else to do this. “I won’t be back next season, Greg.”
His mouth falls open. “What?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s time for me to retire.”
He starts to laugh, and when I don’t join him, he shakes his head. “Ryker, you’re at the height of your career. And yeah, I get it, you’ve done this for a long time?—”
“I’m forty,” I tell him.
He nods his head. “Yeah, you’re forty, and you just hit the best game of your life. You’ve got a few years before you retire.”
